


i wear my leather jacket like a great big hug

by teamfreewolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pack Bonding, on mondays we wear leather, very light on the shipping, you know you're in when you get your own leather jacket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:59:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamfreewolf/pseuds/teamfreewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Stiles are officially a part of the pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wear my leather jacket like a great big hug

**Author's Note:**

> In two parts, since it was originally two separate drabbles.

**PART 1: SCOTT**

Scott finds it draped on the foot of his bed when he walks in from school. He stops walking, stuck a few feet into the room, and Stiles (his head turned as he yells hello to Scott’s mom down the stairs) walks straight into him, jostling them both.

“Dude, what - ?” Stiles starts, but he shuts up quickly when he sees the bed. There is a moment of pure, beautiful, pristine silence - and then Stiles lets out a whooping laugh. Scott gapes at him, then back at the bed.

The leather jacket is dark against his covers.

Scott moves finally and reaches for it. The leather is soft and supple under his fingers. The jacket is a simple design, no extra zippers or buttons or excessive decorative element. He can’t not try it on, right? 

It fits perfectly, makes his shoulders feel a little broader, his chin a little higher over the stand-up collar. He can smell Derek on it, faintly, and Erica, he thinks. He runs his hands down the front of it.

Stiles looks up eventually from his laughing fit, calm enough now to raise himself from where he’s bent over with his hands on his knees, and wipes a stray tear from the corner of his eye. He’s still chuckling, though, when he takes in the vision of Scott in his new jacket and says,

“Guess you really are a member of the pack now, huh?”

Scott looks at himself in his bedroom mirror. He grins. He does look kind of badass.

 

**PART 2: STILES**

“What are you doing.”

Derek’s questions often don’t sound like questions, Stiles has noticed. He turns around to meet Derek’s raised eyebrows and thinned lips - it’s not a scowl, but it’s not a smile, either. Stiles wonders if Derek ever smiles except as a distraction. 

“Shopping,” he responds lamely. 

“For a motorcycle jacket?” Derek’s eyebrows inch up even more.

“Well, what with all the things trying to kill me lately, and my resident werewolves deciding to  _ignore_  me, I figured I could use some other protection, so I’m thinking of joining a motorcycle gang,” Stiles says lightly, and turns back to the row of jackets he was examining.

He likes the lambskin the best. It’s the softest, and the red lining is flashy, but it looks warm and inviting. He fingers the sleeve and sighs. He thinks of the bill for his latest maintenance check on the Jeep. And of the muted light coming from beneath his father’s door, closed now more often than not. There’s no way he can justify such a purchase. He turns away and brushes past Derek’s still looming form towards the door. 

He’s out of the store when he’s yanked back by Derek’s hand on his arm. 

“What are you talking about?” And  _there’s_  the familiar scowl. “Nobody is ignoring you.”

Stiles makes a face.

“I spend, like, every hour of my day with at least one of you - you don’t think I haven’t noticed the little text message chain? Or realized you’ve been having your little pack meetings? Without  _me_.” His chin lifts defiantly. “You realize you guys look ridiculous, right? When you do your strutting thing together? You look like you’re all about to burst into song or something.  _Big Bad Wolf: The Musical!”_

Derek’s face shifts from surly brood to genuinely confused. 

“Is this about Scott’s stupid coat?” He sounds incredulous. “That was Erica’s idea. She thought it’d be funny.”

Stiles drags his eyes along the dark jacket encasing Derek. 

“It is kind of your uniform, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Derek narrows his eyes.

“Is this seriously why you’re angry? Stop being childish.” 

Stiles grits his teeth. He knows Derek’s right, he’s being stupid, but he can’t help it. He’s projecting his frustration over their situation onto their stupid jackets. But somedays it feels like he’s given his entire life over to this and it’s still not enough. So he just rolls his eyes and shakes off Derek’s hand, walking towards his car. 

“Stiles!”

He’s at his door when he feels the coat on his shoulders. The heavy jacket settles immediately on them, staying put even when he whips around. Derek is already halfway across the lot, his requisite gray t-shirt clinging to him. 

Stiles bites his tongue and looks bewilderedly at the leather draping over him. 

A minute passes before he finally adjusts it and slips his arms into the sleeves. 

-

He doesn’t see Derek around for the next few days. He knows he should give the coat to Scott or one of the other betas to give back to their Alpha, but he doesn’t. Instead, he wears it. It’s too big, hanging loosely on his skinny frame, but it’s warm.

Erica and Isaac sport twin smirks, and Boyd’s raised eyebrows rival Derek’s. Scott’s the one who says something, of course.

“Uhm, why are you wearing Derek’s jacket?”

Stiles shrugs.

“You smell like him,” Scott continues. “It’s weird.”

-

Then he comes home from school to find his own surprise. It’s just like when he and Scott found Scott’s jacket (which he now wears constantly). Werewolves really need to learn new ways of giving presents, Stiles thinks, besides just leaving them on people’s beds. They might give somebody the wrong idea.

He lifts the lid of the white box. Inside it rests the red lined jacket he’d been eyeing, and a note in a surprisingly elegant handwriting that reads only:  _I want mine back now._

_  
_


End file.
